


Housekeeping

by gabrielstolethetardis



Series: Destiel One-Shots [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: As Smutty As I Get, Castiel/Dean Winchester One Shot, M/M, Motel AU, Sorta Fluff Sorta Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-26
Updated: 2015-04-26
Packaged: 2018-03-25 19:46:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3822574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gabrielstolethetardis/pseuds/gabrielstolethetardis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas and Dean take some personal time in a motel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Housekeeping

“Housekeeping!” a husky female voice thundered, the motel door vibrating under the force of her fists connecting with it. On the other end of the room, Castiel startled at the sudden interruption, hastily pulling away from Dean, who groaned in protest.

“We—I mean, I—don’t come in!” Castiel shouted, his voice shaking—partially due to shock and partially because Dean, now that Castiel’s lips were otherwise occupied, had moved onto the his neck and began sucking on the tender skin near his jawline.

“You’re going to need those sheets cleaned sometime,” the voice grumbled, and Castiel relaxed as footsteps led away from his door.

Dean chuckled, his mouth tickling Castiel’s neck, and Castiel shivered. “Yeah, Cas,” he teased, pulling back to look first at Castiel and then at the bed in which they were perched. “Look at this mess—“

Cheeks flaming, Castiel cut Dean off with a kiss. “No more talking,” he mumbled. They’d done so much talking—more than enough for a lifetime. This, however… there would never be too much of this.

“Yes, sir,” Dean whispered, returning Castiel’s kiss gently.

With a frustrated growl, Castiel flipped himself and Dean out of their sitting position, Dean landing heavily beneath Castiel. He kissed Dean hungrily, their mouths so tightly interlocking that the place where one ended and the other began couldn’t be determined. When Castiel raked his fingernails over Dean’s scalp, feeling his fine hairs tickle the pads of his fingers, Dean bucked underneath him, a moan escaping him despite the connectedness of their mouths. “Damn,” he gasped, but Castiel didn’t allow him any time for words, foregoing the traditional pull-shirt-over-head for simply ripping the fabric in two and exposing Dean’s muscular chest. Pushing the fabric away hastily, Castiel went to press kisses to Dean’s stomach, but before he had a chance, Dean used the lapse in connection to roll them over so he rested on top—in control.

Castiel’s shirt flew off, and Dean bit his way down Castiel’s shoulders and sides, each pinch of teeth making Castiel clench his own together tightly. “Dean,” he tried, but his words cut off with a gasp when Dean reached his waistband and swiftly pulled off Castiel’s black dress pants, exposing…

Dean raised one eyebrow. “Hearts?” he asked, and Castiel flushed almost as red as the little hearts peppering his boxer shorts.

“They were on sale,” Castiel protested, and Dean chuckled.

“I like them,” he said, eyeing the heart-studded tent that had formed. “I’d like them even better on the floor—“

One tug and they were off and across the room.

“—over there,” Dean finished, a predatory smile taking over his face. Castiel tried to prepare himself for what would happen next, but of course, when it came to Dean, he was absolutely, completely at mercy.

Suddenly, the motel door banged open, and a screech ripped through the air—not the intruder’s, but Castiel’s as he scrambled for something, _anything_ to cover himself. As he tugged one of the white bed sheets over him, Dean moved slightly, and the husky-voiced female housekeeper came into view, a bottle of cleaner clutched in one hand and a rag in the other. Her eyes were fixed on the two of them, darting back and forth between Dean and Castiel several times before she spoke.

“That’s it, I quit.” She made a point of dumping her cleaning supplies in the middle of the floor before exiting the motel room, muttering under her breath about ‘the shit I see’ and letting the door swing shut slowly behind her.

Dean and Castiel both stared at the door for what seemed like hours, but probably was only seconds. Then, a laugh escaped Dean’s lips, and soon the two of them were lying sprawled across the bed, giggling uncontrollably.

“Better than when Sam found out,” Dean managed between chuckles. “Who the hell makes bets about whether or not someone’s gay for someone else?”

“Looks like he scored,” Castiel said, suddenly sober. A small smile still remained on his lips, though. “Dean Winchester, flaming bisexual.”

“Oh, shut up,” Dean groaned, but he was smiling, too.

Castiel grinned wickedly. “Make me.”

Dean propped himself up on his elbows, eyeing Castiel. “If you insist.”

And for the next couple of days, Castiel’s bed sheets remained dirty.


End file.
